


Turn Back the Clocks

by AnAngelFeatherforMyHunter



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Military Personnel, OFC - Freeform, OMC - Freeform, SHIELD, Violence, determined reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-22 08:07:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3721459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnAngelFeatherforMyHunter/pseuds/AnAngelFeatherforMyHunter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The line went dead, and you broke. You were never going to see him again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Goodbyes

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Thanks for reading! This is my first post on this site. Hope you enjoy! This is a slight AU, with the reader insert kind of throwing stuff off. Eventual fluffy, smutty stuff is gonna come this way. Probably going to be some OCs and stuff. Okay. Enjoy.
> 
> P.S.: Would anyone like to Beta this for me? Leave me a comment. I don't really know how the beta thing works, but I'll figure it out for the sake of my story.

If only you could go back in time, rewind the clock several months. If only.

However, time is funny that way. Right when you think you have plenty of it, it gives you a square uppercut to the soft spot in your jaw, knocking your feet from under you and leaving you next-to-dead.

This is the nature of time; no matter how much of it you have, it will never be enough.

***

 _“I love you baby doll. Always have, always will,”_ he whispered into the phone.

“James Buchanan Barnes, don’t you fucking dare say goodbye!” you screamed, “Don’t you fucking dare! You can’t leave me like this!” You heaved your chest, hoping for a full breath as you wailed, your throat constricted with fear and hurt.

 _“You know I wouldn’t if I could help it baby. God damn it,”_ he choked on his words. _“God fucking damn it. You_ know _I wouldn’t,”_ he repeated.

 _“Listen to me baby doll, you’re gonna have an amazing life. You’re gonna be successful, finish up your schoolin’; you’re gonna meet a lot of boys that are gonna take you dancin’, baby, and they’re gonna pour their hearts out at your feet, because you’re fuckin’ worth it. You’re gonna make a lotta love, and you’re gonna buy a big house and have lots’a babies and you’re gonna be so happy. You’ll be so happy, and you’ll die all old and wrinkly in your bed while you sleep. And all you’re gonna remember about me is that I fuckin’ love you._ I. Fucking. Love. You. _You hear me? I love you!”_ he sobbed at you.

“I hear you! I hear you Bucky! But please, come home! Don’t leave me!”

You could feel everything draining from yourself as you realized that the only man you ever loved was going to die; and you were listening to him take his last breaths. The thought made you sick, and as a result, you retched in the seat next to you, all alone in a silent cinema.

_“Baby, I love you. (Name), you hear? You listenin’? I love you. I fucking love you. And that’s not ever gonna —”_

The line went dead, and you broke. You were never going to see him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all liked this first chapter. Comments and Kudos are very welcome. Lets hope to whatever (G)god you all believe in that I continue/finish the story. The more lovin' I get, the more likely I am to keep writing! :3
> 
> P.S.: Would anyone like to Beta this for me? Leave me a comment. I don't really know how the beta thing works, but I'll figure it out for the sake of my story.


	2. In Memoriam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have a nightmare, which leads to reminiscing in meeting Bucky for the first time to calm yourself down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus has it been forever. Sorry dolls, I've been busy with class and papers and all of that jazz. It's been a rough few weeks, but I'm back with chapter two. And I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. Thanks to those of you that left kudos and comments. This chapter is dedicated to all of y'all, because it was your encouragement and insistence that led me to work through the stress to finish this chapter. Without further ado, enjoy!

A gentle sigh escaped your lips as you rolled over in your sleep. In your good dreams, Bucky was there with you, crushing you to his strong chest or holding your face while he calmed you as you surfaced from a nightmare. In those nightmares, you dreamt of losing him. The ones that you had in the recent days were no different; however, they had become a reality.

You had received the condolence letter two weeks after the call. You’d been hoping that Steve had rescued Bucky, that the two of them were going to come home and that you were going to be happy again. But, holding the yellow slip in your hand, you realized that your life really had changed. Bucky was never going to walk through your door again with his trademark grin plastered across his face. He was never going to make coffee to start your mornings again. He was never going to caress your skin while you slept, not ever again. He would never whisper sweet nothings into the shell of your ear while you two danced. Never.

The world had come crashing down on you that day in, what felt like, a literal sense. You really had lost him, and it had just begun to register that your life died with him.

You rolled over in your sleep again, letting loose a pained whimper while fisting your hands in the sheets on the empty side of the bed.

“Bucky…” you whined.

_“(Name)! (Name)! Where are you? Why did you leave me?”_

“No, no, no, nnnnnnnnnnnnoooo…” you groaned quietly, rucking the sheets up around your middle as you thrashed.

_“Don’t you ever forget me baby doll; I’ll be back for you some day.”_

A scream tore its way up from your lungs and out of your throat as your torso flew off of the bed. You gulped down the stale air of your bedroom and swiped the wetness from your cheeks, trying to forget what you had just witnessed.

You knew how it happened. You knew that he fell. That didn’t surprise you at all; Bucky had always been somewhat of a klutz when he wasn’t dancing. The matter of his death left the bitter taste of irony on your tongue when Steve had called and told you. What had surprised you was where he had fallen from and why.

“Why?!” you sobbed into your knees as the dream played on a loop in your already tortured head.

_Why couldn’t Steve have just reached out a little further? Why didn’t he take that chance?_

You rubbed your eyes again, telling yourself that it wasn’t Steve’s fault and that he had done everything he could to stop Bucky from falling. _You shouldn’t blame Steve,_ you chided yourself. In fact, this dream had nothing to do with Steve. It had been _your_ failure in grabbing his hand that led to his plummet from the rail car. You were forever scarred by the sound of his screams as his body free-fell into that snow covered ravine.

You laid back down, staring at the ceiling all the while, trying to picture happy moments with him; the ones before he insisted on joining the war effort.

If only you could turn back the time, you would have been able to keep him from going off to Germany. You could have married him and prepared to raise a family.

_All of that is gone now,_ you thought, fresh tears pricking the corners of your (e/c) eyes. You rolled over onto your side so that you could face his half of the bed and shut your eyes as you hummed Moonlight Serenade to yourself.

As you began to drift off into a fresh bout of sleep, your mind took you to the night that you met Bucky Barnes…

***

You tapped your foot against one of the legs of the barstool you were sitting on. [In The Mood](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_CI-0E_jses) was playing from the jukebox in the corner as groups of friends, couples and families alike sat down for lunch and a treat from the diner/ice cream parlor that you used to go to in high school.

_Not that high school was so long ago,_ you thought to yourself as you licked another swipe from your rocky-road, double-scoop cone. When you had ordered it, it hadn’t seemed like so much ice cream. When you had gotten it, however, you knew that you couldn’t eat it and all of your lunch.

Your best friend, Suzanne, jabbed you in the ribs with her elbow. You gave a brief start, almost knocking the second scoop of ice cream off of your cone. You glared at her.

“Gosh, Sue! Why do ya have to go an’ do somethin’ like that to me? D’ya even know how embarrasin’ it woulda looked had my ice cream gone and fallen off the cone?” You fixed her with another irritated stare.

“Well, sorry (Name)! You were just spacin’ out an’ I thought maybe you’d come out of it if I poked ya. When ya didn’t… I guess I just took it a bit too far. Lighten up a bit, would ya?” she finished with a grin.

You sighed and rolled your eyes as a small smiled turned up the corners of your lips.

“Hey, I am sorry,” Sue told you in a genuinely apologetic tone.

“It’s alright, Sue. Sorry for snappin’ at ya,” you replied just as genuinely, licking the ice cream again.

Just then, the tell tale _ting!_ of the bell over the door sounded, and you looked towards the front to see who was coming in.

You could say this: he wasn’t a boy you had ever seen around. He had dark, slicked back hair with pale skin and gray eyes to match. He wore a white polo with a brown leather jacket slung over his shoulder. His polo was tucked into a pair of fitted khakis, strung through with a belt to match his jacket, as well as the oxfords that looked as if they had just been polished. The only accessory he had on was a small silver watch on his left wrist, which glinted as he scrubbed his fingers through his hair.

He had very inviting eyes, with crinkles around the corners that told of how often he smiled and laughed. His eyes themselves were such a beautiful, icy shade of blue-gray that captivated all that they lingered on. You only happened to notice because his gaze rested upon yours.

You blushed quite a bright shade of scarlet and snapped your gaze to the floor the second you realized that you were staring. From your peripherals, you could see him turn to make a remark to his friend, who was much shorter, blonder, and slimmer than himself. But the younger boy’s, you assumed him to be younger, eyes were no less captivating.

You spun the barstool back around and continued to eat your ice cream, that blush ever present on the apples of your cheeks.

That was when Sue decided to lean in and squeal out a whisper, “Oh, golly! Do you see how handsome that fella is? I’d let him take me dancin’ any day!”All you could do was blush harder as you waved her off.

“He’s comin’ this way!” she giggled at you. You glanced over your shoulder to check, and sure enough, he was gliding towards the counter. 

You averted your eyes once again and hunched in on yourself, trying to become invisible so he wouldn’t notice you. You remembered your Pa’s warning, _“Men only take girls dancin’ so they can take ‘em home!”_ So, whenever you had been asked to dance, you always turned the poor fella down.

“…go talk to the shy lookin’ dame over there, Stevie?” You caught the tail end of the brunet’s sentence.

“Doesn’t look like she wants to be talked to, Buck,” the other one said.

“Well, suit yourself. You’re the one always complainin’ about not bein’ able to reel ‘em in,” the brunet retorted; you could here the smirk in his voice as you watched him push off of the counter in your peripheral vision.

_Damn, he’s comin’ over here,_ you thought to yourself, hastily turning to strike up a conversation with Sue, hoping that he would pick up on it and walk away.

Unfortunately for you, he didn’t. However, he walked around you and moved on to Sue, leaning his weight on his forearms just to the left of her.

“Hey there, doll. My name’s James Barnes, but most people just call me ‘Bucky,’” he introduced.

“Where’s Bucky come from, if your name’s James?” Sue giggled at him.

“The middle name is Buchanan; it was my ma’s maiden name,” he explained with same smirk stretched across his handsome face.

Sue licked at her ice cream suggestively. She had always been a girl of looser morals, just usually not so fast. She really was taken with this stranger, this young man named Bucky Barnes.

You rolled your eyes again, sneaking a glance at his friend. The boy extended his hand to you.

“Rogers. Steve Rogers. Pleased to meet ya,” he beamed.

“(Name). But all my friends call me (nickname).” You took his hand in yours and gave it a firm shake.

“I think I like (Name) better. S’prettier,” he said with another flash of teeth.

You blushed again, not quite as hard this time.

“Well, thanks Steve! You two new in town?” You gestured at the boy named Bucky.

“Nah, just never been to this diner before,” he shrugged.

“ _I’ve_ never seen you around, so I must be blind,” you replied, smiling self-deprecatingly while shaking your head.

“Brooklyn’s a big city; it makes sense that ya haven’t seen us about. We live on the East End,” he added, trying to make you feel a bit less embarrassed.

“S’pose so,” you laughed a little. “Your friend over there take to mackin’ on girls every time he goes out?”

“Who, Bucky? He’s always chasin’ them skirts. Can’t get enough of ‘em,” Steve chuckled to himself.

You murmured, “Sure looks like it,” eyeing Sue and Bucky, now chatting it up as Sue continued to make a show of eating her ice cream.

“So, what brings ya over to the West Side today?” you began, liking Steve’s warm flash of teeth every time you said something else to him. It didn’t seem as if he’d ever gotten much female attention.

“Well, Bucky wanted to…” And off Steve went as you casually listened to him. 

You added in your own little quips and remarks to let him know that you were paying attention, nodding and shaking your head enthusiastically as he talked. You and Steve talked hours away, while Bucky and Sue did just the same.

Close to six, the diner staff began to move tables around, preparing for the evening rush of teenagers and couples wanting to eat and then dance. You watched Bucky take a glance at his watch and exclaim,

“Good Lord, Steve! It’s nearly six!” directing his attention at Steve, and then Sue as he asked, “Whaddaya say we skip this joint and head downtown to go dancin’?”

Sue bobbed her head up and down, a huge smile plastered on her face.

“Thought you’d never ask, Buck!” she replied as she slid from the stool and took his arm.

“You two comin’?” Bucky asked Steve more than you.

Steve glanced at you and you shrugged your shoulders. He looked back at Bucky.

“Guess that’s fine.”

Bucky clapped his hands, “Alright! Lets hit the pavement ladies!”

Steve scowled at him.

“And Steve,” he added hastily, yet no less joyously.

With that, the four of you left the diner to find a ride to downtown Brooklyn, hoping to have some dinner and maybe snag a quick dance.

***

You take in the scene around you: girls in swooshing skirts and young men with well groomed hair swinging them around in circles. Most of the couples were doing the Lindy out on the dance floor while the band played swing and jazz.

Bucky and Sue danced in perfect harmony; however, Bucky’s movements were the only ones you noticed. He moved as if he had been born to dance, so fluid and graceful. You would have been mesmerized if it weren’t for the company sitting opposite you.

“So, how’s the night been so far?” Steve shouted across the table at you.

Your eyes darted back to Bucky and Sue before you replied. “It’s been fine,” you shouted back, taking a sip from the glass of iced tea in front of you. “How about yours?”

“It’s alright I guess. Wish I knew how to dance, is all,” Steve sighed.

Your gaze snapped up to his. “Me too,” you tentatively agreed.

Steve gaped at that; “You don’t know how to dance?”

You shook your head. “My daddy always told me that men asked us girls to dance so they could take us home.” You exhaled a bitter chuckle.

Steve shrugged, “Not if he’s a respectable man, beggin’ your pardon, miss.”

You jerked your thumb over your shoulder at Bucky and Sue. “He a respectable man?”

Steve moved his gaze to the floor, hesitating in his answer, “I…”

Steve never got to finish that thought as there was a commotion on the floor, and you could see Sue wrapped up in Bucky’s arms as he strode towards the table you and Steve were sat at.

“Is she okay?” you gasped once they were in earshot.

“M’fine,” Sue winced as Bucky set her down. “Just got a bit carried away.”

“Really, it was my fault. I shouldn’ta let go of her hand so soon…” Bucky trailed off.

“I’m fine, Buck. It wasn’t your fault. Maybe this way, we can all enjoy root beer floats together,” Sue said with a little smile.

So, you did just that. Steve and Bucky went up to the order window and bought four root beer floats.

While they were gone, you leaned over to Sue and asked in a hushed whisper, “What’d he do?”

“Oh, I was spinnin’ and he let go of my hand so I could go on and do my thing, but I lost my balance an’ fell over. Silly me. Now I bet I’ve a sprained ankle that’ll keep me from dancin’ for the next week,” she rolled her eyes exasperatedly.

“Is he a nice fella?” you inquired.

“Oh, real nice. He made me feel real special out on the floor,” she said with a dreamy half-smile on her face.

The boys got back to the table with the four floats and sat down. The four of you made casual conversation as you sipped on the root beer, but you could tell that something was off. Bucky’s knee was bouncing in time to the music under the table. His agitated movements made it apparent that he was scoping out another dame to dance with; he clearly wanted to get back out on the floor to enjoy the music and the company of a woman.

Steve saw it too, and he saw you watching Bucky, so when Sue asked for some help to the powder room, Steve offered to walk her there. Sue cast a longing look at Bucky as Steve asked if that was okay with him. Still scanning the crowd, he waved a dismissive hand at the two of them much to Sue’s disappointment.

It looked as if Bucky was about to saunter off at any minute when he turned to you and held out a friendly hand.

You looked at the hand dumbfoundedly and then up at his face. He took in the question in your eyes and politely clarified your confusion with a question of his own.

“Dance with me?” he said, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“I don’t dance,” you responded instinctually, but a part of you wanted to take his hand and risk it this once. Something about him caught you off guard in the best way possible.

“How come?” He looked genuinely hurt.

“Daddy told me-” you began.

“Daddy ain’t you. Now, are you gonna get up and dance with me, or am I gonna hafta find another dame to woo?” he asked with an impish grin, all traces of hurt gone from his face.

“I don’t know how to dance, James,” you pleaded desperately.

“I’ll teach ya. And, you oughtta call me Bucky. James’s too formal for me,” he said as he grabbed your wrist, dragging you to the dance floor.

“Bucky!” you yelped, but you didn’t resist his pull.

“It’s alright, I gotcha - Ooh! I love this song!” he exclaimed as he placed one hand on your waist and used the other to take yours.

“Bucky!” you hissed, “I don’t know how to dance!”

“It’s easy! Just follow me!” he said, grooving to the rhythm of Benny Goodman’s [“Sing, Sing, Sing.”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6_YG9XBX04Y)

Sure enough, you got the hang of it, and once you could stop thinking about where you were supposed to be stepping and kicking, you actually began to enjoy yourself. Once, when you were spinning, you caught Sue’s eye and she glared daggers at you. You didn’t look at her again while you were dancing. 

Eventually the music changed from swing to more of a soft jazz, and Bucky pulled you closer as you started to sway with the music.

You began to panic, and pushed against his chest as he put both hands on your waist.

“Hey now, easy, easy. I’m not gonna hurt ya or do anythin’ indecent. We’re just dancin’. See? This is how you dance to this kind’a music. See?” You followed his eyes around the floor. Indeed, all of the couples were pressed together as they undulated with the smooth melody of [Moonlight Serenade](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_X8sz_wgrSc).

You relaxed, wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your head on his shoulder. You could hear him humming the tune of the song into your hair as you swayed together.

That was when Steve came up and tapped you on the shoulder. “Um, miss, I hate to bother ya, but Miss Sue seems to be in awful pain and she says she wants ta’ go home,” he said, wringing his hands.

“Of course. Thanks Steve,” you replied with a gentle smile. Steve gave a curt nod and briskly walked back to the table that Sue sat at.

You watched him help her up as she wrapped an arm around his shoulders to steady herself. The four of you left the dance hall and headed back towards Western Brooklyn.

***

Steve offered to take Sue home; she pouted a little at that. She slung an arm around Bucky’s neck, expecting a good-night kiss from him. He didn’t give her one, though. Just a one-armed hug and a half-hearted “G’night, Sue” as he stuck his arm out for you to take. You glanced back at Steve and Sue; you could see from the sag in her shoulders that she was disappointed.

“So, I never did catch your name,” Bucky said conversationally.

“Well, I suppose you oughtta have it if you’re gonna walk me home,” you sighed. “It’s (Name).”

“(Name). I like that. It’s real nice,” he said, tasting the sound of it. You had to admit that it sounded twice as good coming from his mouth.

You blushed and cast your gaze down to your feet as you mumbled, “Thanks.” 

He looked over at you with such a disarming smile that it almost left you in a daze. Regaining your composure, you snapped at him:

“I swear, if you even think about touchin’ me, I’ll-” you began.

“You’ll what? Hit me? Like that ain’t never happened before,” he chuckled. “Besides, I ain’t that kind’a fella. I ain’t gonna touch ya,” he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

“Okay…” you responded warily.

“Did you enjoy the dancin’, Miss (Name)?” he asked conspiratorially, waggling his eyebrows at you. Underneath the innuendo, though, he seemed to be genuinely interested.

“Why, I think I did Mr. Barnes,” you answered with a smile.

“Well, I’m glad. How would you like to do it again sometime?” He would have looked hopeful if it weren’t for the overarching appearance of nonchalance in his gaze.

“I suppose I wouldn’t mind that - here! I live here.” You jerked his arm around so that he could lead you up the stairs.

Unfortunately, Bucky wasn’t quite as graceful in his walking as he was in his dancing; he stumbled and the two of you went crashing down at the foot of the stairs.

“Damn, sorry Miss,” he smiled apologetically. You could see a faint blush on the apples of his cheeks as he pushed himself up and grabbed for your hand. You giggled as he yanked you up a little too hard, sending you crashing into his chest.

“Whoa there. Careful now,” he said with a gleam in his eye. You peered through your lashes at him.

“Hey there,” he whispered, breath ghosting across your face.

“Hi,” you smiled back at him.

You heard the door slam open. “(Name)! Get inside!”

“Comin’ daddy!” you shouted back, never taking your eyes off of Bucky.

“Now!” your father snapped.

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’,” you yelled. 

Bucky led you up the steps and took your hand in his, placing a kiss on the knuckles with a small sigh. 

“Thank you for the lovely evening, Mr. Barnes,” you whispered.

“Any time, baby doll. And please, call me Bucky.” He flashed another dazzling smile at you.

“Okay, Bucky,” you smiled back.

“G’night, Miss (Name),” he called over his shoulder. He watched your father disappear from the doorframe.

You waved at him, only to watch him turn around, make a mad dash for you and sweep you off of your feet in a kiss.

His lips tasted like whiskey and vanilla ice cream, and his musk was heady. You felt his steady grip around your waist as he lowered you back to the ground. He pushed his forehead to yours, husking another “Goodnight” before he turned to leave.

You watched him walk down the street, and once he was out of earshot, you whispered, “Goodnight, Bucky Barnes.”

You waltzed through the door with a dazed expression on your face. You shut it with conviction, letting your father know that you had come inside. You leaned back against the door with a smile, thinking about the next time you would get to stare into icy gray eyes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. Hopefully chapter three will be out before June. Sorry dolls, I'm a really slow writer. But, I think waiting is worth it, don't you? At least, I hope it is. Feel free to leave concrit and feedback. Kudos and comments are adored! Thanks for reading dolls! See you next time.


	3. The Welcoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is trying to move on from Bucky's death, so she joins the military.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. It's been forever. I'm a terrible person, and at this point, I have absolutely no excuse. Regardless, chapter three. Does anyone else forget sometimes that they have New Yorker's accents? I do. The title of this chapter sounds so ominous, but I promise you, it isn't (at least, not a lot). Enjoy it, dolls!

You stood in front of your bathroom mirror, adjusting the tie around your neck and nervously smoothing down your skirt. You hastily swiped rouge across your lips and placed your garrison hat on your perfectly styled curls.

“You know he wouldn’t want you doin’ that, right?” Sue stated rather than asked.

“I know all too well Sue, but I’m doin’ it in his memory,” you sniffled. 

It had been three months since Bucky’s death and joining the war effort in his place seemed to be the clearest course of action for you. 

Well, you said that you did it for him. You knew that he would hate it, that he would be furious to know that you joined the women’s branch of the military, but it was the only way you could keep your peace of mind. To do the thing that Bucky died doing, serving his country, kept the nightmares and the heartache at bay. You felt like you could at least be with him for a little bit longer this way.

“I know that you’re hurtin’ (Name), but you’re makin’ the wrong decision!” Sue fretted. “Look, there are other ways that you can be okay again. If you would just go out with me one-”

“Sue, we talked about this. I ain’t goin’ out again for a long, long time, and this is what I need to do. You gotta drop this. I’m gettin’ sick and tired of it,” you sighed at her. 

“It’s my first day on this job and I wanna make a good impression. I can’t hardly do that if you’re gonna make me late with your yammerin’,” you said with conviction and a nod that said _‘This is final.’_

Sue pouted. “You’re gonna regret it darlin’. But I suppose it ain’t my place to tell ya what you oughtta be doin’ with your life.”

Sue stepped out of your bathroom and called over her shoulder coldly, “I’m lettin’ myself out.”

You sighed again and stared at your reflection. You could see the stress in the set of your shoulders, the bruises under your eyes from many a sleepless night, and the tear stains that ran in spiderwebbed cracks down your cheeks. 

_You can do this,_ you told yourself as you stared harder, trying to erase the hurt from your face and body. _You know you can. Now, go make Bucky proud._

You made yourself stand up straighter and raised your chin, gave your reflection a salute, and grabbed your new army-green coat as you walked out of your apartment, locking the door behind you.

You caught a taxicab to the train station and bought your ticket. You were told that everything you would ever need would be given to you at the base and that you shouldn’t take anything along with you as it would only hinder you in your journey. 

You boarded the train alone, not bothering to sit in the military cabin with the other men and women headed to their new jobs just like you. You picked an empty bench and sat down, staring at your hands as the train jerked into motion. _Five hours north, that’s where I’m headed,_ you thought. _That ain’t too bad._ You spent the remainder of the train ride in quiet reverence as you reflected on your life with Bucky and the choice you made to honor him.

 

***

 

“(Name)! Git you’s self to bed!” your father shouted from in the kitchen, no doubt opening another beer.

“In a minute daddy!” you shouted at him again.

“No, I says now. Git to bed, you foolish girl!” He came out waving a glass of gin at you. 

Your father was a hard man. He had been in the army in the Great War and as a result, refused to take no for an answer. His shell-shock had turned him into an angry drunk, and the passing of your mother had turned his heart cold towards you. 

On some nights, when he was drunk enough, he would mistake you for her, as you were her spitting image. Those were the nights that you locked yourself in your room, sobbing as he whaled on the door, begging for you to come out. He was even gruffer than usual the mornings afterward, but his apology towards you was to drink less for the following month. The process repeated itself fairly regularly. Needless to say, your home was not a comfortable one to spend extensive amounts of time in.

“Daddy, I just met the most amazin’ young man, I think you’d-” you began.

“Don’t be tellin’ me nothin’ ‘bout no boys, (Name). You knows what I think ‘bout these fellas. They don’t want nothin’ from ya but to git you into bed,” he snarled.

“But daddy, this one’s-” you began again, a hint of tears in your voice.

“No, he ain’t no different. He’s gonna take ya to bed an’ break yer damned little heart. Now git your ass into bed before I has to beat it there!” he shouted at you, waving his arms erratically and sloshing his gin all over the place.

“See what you’s made me done now? Who’s gonna clean up the fuckin’ mess?” he motioned at the gin on the floor.

You rolled your eyes. “It ain’t like it’s gonna make a big difference. Lord only knows how many alcohol stains are on this floor thanks to how much of a drunkard you are,” you finished with a snarl.

At that, your father grabbed you by the sweater-front and hauled you up to him. You could smell the alcohol on his breath and feel his fist that clutched the soft material of your cardigan shaking. His pupils were blown and unfocused.

“You hold your tongue girl, or I’ll cut it outta yer mouth,” he growled, and with unnecessary force, pushed you away from him. “Git in bed, now!”

“You’re a sick bastard!” you yelled over your shoulder as you bolted towards your room. You could hear his clumsy and labored footfalls as he chased you, but luckily, his inebriation kept him from catching up with you in time. You locked your door and hid in your closet for fear of him breaking down the door, but within the next few minutes, he left grumbling.

You gasped in relief as you stepped out of the closet and stepped out of your shoes and skirt, folding it and setting it on your dresser as you readied for bed. The whole time you undressed and redressed, combed your hair and made ready your bed, you thought of James Barnes, focusing on the little details. The color of his eyes, the curve of his smile, the way he got lost in the rhythm of a dance.

As you climbed into bed and turned out your side-table lamp, you sighed to yourself, “Til next time, James Buchanan Barnes.”

 

***

The train made stops periodically and you watched as people entered and left the locomotive car. You sat quietly, on your own, and observed everyone in your train car, from the people that had been on the train for some time to those just stepping through the doors. No matter their age, skin color, or gender, you made judgements about everyone who came through the doors to your train cabin.

_That woman has a hundred cats waitin’ for her to come home,_ you said to yourself, glancing at an old woman in a yellow dress with a hat on. Her purse matched the color of her shoes, but neither of those accessories matched the dress she wore or her hat. _She obviously doesn’t care ‘bout how she looks. She mustn’t have anybody to impress._ You grumbled to yourself, nestling back down in your seat and went back to staring at your twiddling thumbs.

When the train came to a stop in Manhattan, people flooded your carriage. Everywhere you looked, the seats were filled and there were even people standing, holding on to the rails above you. You hoped that no one would approach you, asking to sit next to you, but of course, someone did.

“‘Scuse me, miss, but is anyone sittin’ there?” asked a young woman. She looked to be about your age, with short blond hair curled around her face. Her lips were bright red, like yours, and she wore some eye makeup that accentuated the green in her irises.

“No, there’s nobody there,” you replied warily.

“Would ya mind too much if I sat next to ya?” she asked politely.

“‘Course not. Come on in,” you said, putting on your best smile as you scooched over a seat. 

“Thank you so much, miss. These damned shoes are too much for my feet to be walkin’ in ‘em all day long. My name’s Ellie. What’s yours?” She flashed you a smile that reminded you of Steve’s as she gently proffered her hand to you. _Steve would’a liked this one,_ you thought to yourself.

You tentatively took her hand and shook it once, adding, “(Name), but most people call me (Nickname).”

“Well, it’s nice to meet ya, (Nickname),” she nodded at you. “Say, why ain’t you in the military persons’ cabin? I just saw a bunch’a people gettin’ in there.”

You fidgeted. “I just didn’t wanna sit with ‘em. They’s mostly men, and you know how they are when a woman sits around ‘em. Plus, there’re too many people in there, an’ I wanted to be alone,” you whispered, looking down at your hands again. 

Ellie frowned, a furrow creasing her flawless brow, as she said, “I didn’t mean to intrude on ya, I can get up if ya want.”

“No! I mean, no, no that’s okay. I’m fine right now. You ain’t bad to sit next to,” you hastily added, briefly smiling to mask your discomfort.

“I’m sorry anyway. But thanks. Would it be pryin’ if I asked you why?” Ellie seemed intrigued by your anti-social behavior.

“My…” you began, not knowing what to call Bucky. _Lover?_ No, you decided that was too risqué to reveal off the bat. _I’ll call him my husband. After all, we would’a been married by now._

You started again, “My…husband just died recently, overseas. I’m still comin’ to terms with it.”

You could feel the sadness in Ellie’s eyes when you looked up at her. “I’m so sorry darlin’,” she whispered to you, reaching out for your hand and holding fast to it. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, I’m movin’ on to join the women’s branch in honor of ‘im.” You gave her a very small, sad smile as a tear slipped down your cheek.

“Hey now, you seem like a damn strong woman if you’re gonna join the military for him. Don’t cry, sugar. Why don’t you tell me a little bit about ‘im?” Ellie asked, rubbing small circles along your upper arm to comfort you.

“Well,” you said as you wiped your under-eye with the back of your thumb, “his name was James, but to me, he was Bucky. We had been together for two years before he got drafted into the war. He had the prettiest eyes and he could dance like there was no tomorrow…”

 

***

 

The harsh and constant _Rrrrringggggggg_ of your alarm clock woke you at 7:30 AM. You stuck an arm out and slapped the clock down, pushing back the tangled nest sitting atop your head. You rubbed your eyes tiredly, sniffling as you shoved your sheets back and swung your legs over the edge of the bed. You reached above yourself and stretched, getting up with a yawn.

You walked over to your wardrobe, pulling off your nightgown as you went and replacing it with fresh undergarments. You hooked your bra and pulled up a strap as you shuffled through your blouses, looking for something to go with your red, checkered skirt. After a few moments of quiet rustling, you picked out a white scoop-neck blouse with three-quarter length sleeves and yanked it over your head, turning up the cuffs. You pulled up your stockings, clipping your garters to the front and back, before you pulled on your crinoline, followed by your skirt, zipping everything up. You finished with a red belt around your waist and red flats to match.

You began to move towards your vanity, hairbrush in hand, when a scrap of paper on the floor caught your eye. 

“Now, what in the-” you began as you picked it up, preparing to throw it away.

 

_Meet me at that same diner today at four._

_I wanna take you someplace special, baby doll._

_\- Bucky_

 

You read over the note once more, before placing it on your vanity. You looked up at your beaming reflection in the vanity mirror, your smile gleaming brighter than it ever had in the past. 

You sat down, humming the song that you and Bucky last danced to the night before, as you ran a brush through your wild curls, taming them to sit around your face. Your fingers idly pulled your fringe into a tight victory roll, skillfully pinning it to your head the way you had done a thousand times before. You brushed on some light eye makeup, coating your lashes with mascara and finishing with cat-eye liner. You swiped rouge across your cheeks and lips, and powdered the rest of your face. You did exactly what you had done the day before, and the day before that, and the hundreds of days before that. But, it felt different, knowing that you had someone to be beautiful for.

You ran your fingers through your curls once more, picked up the note, and shoved it in-between your flesh of your breast and the material of your bra before leaving your room to make breakfast for your father.

Once his breakfast was laid out on the table and yours eaten, you left your own note on the table that read: “I’m spending the day with Sue; I will be home at eight. Love, (Name).” You departed from home immediately afterward.

The day was warm already, humid even, considering it was only eight thirty. _It’s mid-June. It shouldn’t be surprisin’ at this point,_ you thought to yourself, idling along in the sun-bathed path to Sue’s house.

With your thoughts focused on Bucky, the walk was quick and unlabored. Before you knew it, you were knocking on Sue’s door.

Sue pulled the door open, all hints of her usual welcoming smile gone.

“Sue!” you exclaimed, “Look at this!” You shoved the note at her chest excitedly.

She read it over, her eyes growing colder with each word.

“And how’d’ya come by this, (Name)?” she asked sourly.

“I dunno, he musta slipped it in the pocket of my cardigan when we was walkin’ home last night,” you said, staring dreamily up at the gabled rooftop.

“Oh, that’s right. He walked YOU home. Not me. God, what does he even see in you?” Sue snarled. 

You flinched, taken aback by the contempt in her voice.

“I thought, well… I thought you’d be happy for me Sue,” you whispered, a tear running down your face.

“Well, you thought wrong, honey. You stole ‘im from me. You ain’t got nothin’ on me, either. I’m prettier, I’m curvier; I don’t understand why he’d pick you over me at all. Fine, you can have him, just know that you’re gonna be stuck with a guy that ain’t got no taste in his ladies,” she shouted, tears running down her own face. 

“You bitch,” you gasped, covering your mouth in horror as you snatched your note from her fingers and turned tail.

“Yeah, you run to ‘im like the little whore you are! I can see right damn through your innocent act!” she shouted down the way as you ran the path into town.

~~\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~~

You picked at your fries, looking morosely between your food and the clock, waiting for Bucky to show up. You kept playing your argument with Sue over and over again in your head; the thought of what she said brought tears to your eyes once more.

You had run until your lungs burned and your brow was beaded with sweat, tears spilling freely from your eyes. At one point, you had to stop to heave up the contents of your breakfast. That was right as you had made it into the heart of the town, walking into the diner you were supposed to meet Bucky at while wiping your mouth.

“Jerry, I’m gonna head to the restroom,” you sniffled when he gaped at you.

“O’course, miss. Can I ask ya, is somethin’ wrong?” He offered you a handkerchief.

“No,” you answered, wiping at your eyes and nose with it. “I’m gonna be fine.”

“Whatever you say, miss,” he answered, taking his handkerchief back.

You walked into the restroom, wiped your eyes once more and fixed your makeup. You ran your hands over your hair, attempting to smooth it down with less success than you had hoped for. You sighed and washed your hands before leaving the restroom and the diner to kill time around town.

You spent the rest of the day gazing into shop windows, wishing that you had enough money to buy yourself a new sunhat. You did get a piece of candy from the sweet shop, and even managed a new nail lacquer, the color of a red delicious. 

You were broken from your reverie by a hand on your shoulder; it made you start, which tore a laugh from the boy standing at your side.

“Didn’t mean to startle ya there,” he laughed.

“Bucky,” you perked up, flashing him a warm smile.

“Heya, doll,” he responded with a warm smile of his own as he slid into the booth opposite you.

“So, I see you got the note,” he said.

“Yeah, I did,” you replied lamely.

When you said nothing else, Bucky got the uneasy feeling that something was wrong. He cleared his throat, and when you looked up, he opened his mouth to ask,

“What’s the matter?”

“Well, uhm, I had a fight with my daddy last night, and this mornin’, when I went to show Sue the note, she got angry and called me a whore and said I wasn’t pretty enough for you.” You sniffled once again, fresh tears pooling in your eyes.

“Why I oughtta… That bitch has some nerve to call you a whore after the way she was actin’ with me yesterday,” Bucky growled.

“Hey now, don’t pay no mind to it. She’s just jealous coz she ain’t good enough. Beside, it ain’t true baby doll. You’re plenty pretty, and you ain’t no whore,” he finished with a nod.

“I know, it’s just,” a tear rolled down your cheek, “she’s supposed to be my friend and be happy for me. All she did was make me feel terrible all day.” You looked at your lap, sniffling some more.

Bucky gently pulled you up by the chin and wiped away the tear with his thumb.

“Listen to me baby doll, you’re beautiful. I mean, I did decide I liked you more, didn’t I? And I know you ain’t no whore. Hell, you’re probably the most respectable girl I’ve ever gone after, and that’s sayin’ a lot.” He smiled softly at you.

“Now, whaddaya say we get outta here and do somethin’ fun? I got someplace special to show ya later,” he grinned like a giddy schoolboy. 

His smile was contagious, and you found that you couldn’t say no.

“Okay,” you giggled as he took your hand.

The two of you meandered around town for an hour or so, and when you pointed out the sunhat you wanted, he bought it for you without a second thought.

“Which one did ya say it was, doll?” he asked, pulling out his bill-fold.

“Bucky, you don’t gotta-” you started.

“None’a that. I wanna get it for ya,” he smiled.

You looked at your feet as you blushed.

“It’s the white one with the khaki trim,” you whispered shyly.

“Then, ma’am, I’ll take that one,” he said to the sale’s associate, pointing at the hat you wanted.

“That’ll be five dollars, son,” she said with a friendly smile.

“Wow,” he whistled, “that’s a damn expensive hat.”

You pulled on his sleeve, saying once again,

“You don’t hafta get it for me!”

“I know I don’t have to, but I wanna get it for you,” he said as he handed over a five dollar bill. The lady handed him the hat in exchange, and he put it on your head with conviction.

“It looks damn good on ya, doll,” he grinned, extending his arm for you to take.

“Thanks Bucky, I mean it. Now, where’re you takin’ me?” you added, holding fast to his arm.

“You’ll see.” He flashed an impish smirk at you as you rolled your eyes and walked with him out of the boutique and down the main road.

 

***

 

“Aww, darlin’ he sounds like he musta been lovely. I hate to hafta stop ya, but this is my stop, and I don’t wanna miss it,” Ellie smiled at you apologetically.

“Of course, Ellie. It was good meetin’ ya,” you smiled in return.

“Good meetin’ you, too. Hey, look me up once ya get where you’re goin’. Maybe we can meet up again and talk some more once this war is over,” she poked her head around the train car entrance as she stepped off.

“Okay, Ellie! I’ll see ya then!” you shouted back at her as the train began moving once again.

_Alone again,_ you thought. You looked around, noticing for the first time that, save for two other passengers, your train car was completely empty. 

You gazed out the window, your mind drifting back to that evening with Bucky.

 

***

 

You ambled up a dirt road with Bucky at your side, the sun beginning to set behind you.

“Buck, are you sure we’re allowed up here?” you asked warily as he led you up a hill.

“I’m positive. Now, smell the air,” he beamed.

You sniffed, smelling salt and seaweed. You listened closer as well, and heard the rolling ocean just beyond the hills. Once you reached the top, you took in the sight before you: waves cresting and crashing at the foot of the hill you stood upon.

“Wow, Buck… It’s beautiful,” you sighed, leaning into his chest.

“I know. Nothin’ compared to you though,” he said softly as he laced his fingers with yours.

“C’mon, we’ve only got a little further to go,” he whispered and began moving again, you falling into step with him once more.

Within the next few minutes, you reached a cottage that sat atop the hillside. It was lovely, white with pale blue trim and a little porch with a swing. While you marveled at it, Bucky made to open the front door.

“Bucky!” you hissed, catching him at the last minute. “You can’t do that! Someone lives here!”

He chuckled.

“Doll, nobody’s lived here since the war started. I know because I’ve been up here before. Now, are ya comin’ in with me or not?” he added, holding out his hand.

You eyed him suspiciously.

“You ain’t tryin’ to do nothin’ indecent to me, are ya?” you asked.

Bucky feigned an offended look as his extended hand flew up to cover his heart.

“Who, me?” he said dramatically, “How could ya think such a thing?”

When you didn’t budge, he proffered his hand once more and said seriously,

“Doll, you ain’t got nothin’ to worry 'bout. I told ya, I ain’t that kind’a fella. I swear I ain’t gonna touch ya.”

“Okay,” you conceded and followed him into the house.

You took in your surroundings, noticing that everything was in, what seemed to be, its rightful place. All the furniture was untouched, books still on the shelves, even family pictures still hung on the walls, though everything was covered in a considerable amount of dust.

“Buck, what happened here?” you asked as you looked around in awe.

“Dunno,” he shrugged, “I just know that somebody up-and-dusted outta here a while ago and the place has been untouched ever since.”

As you moved about the house, Bucky put on a record and pulled two sodas out of the still-running refrigerator.

“Well, it was untouched when I first got here. Since then, this place has been my escape from everythin’ goin’ on in the regular world. Once in a while, I come up here, sometimes I bring Stevie, and I just let go of everythin’, ya know?” he said, turning to you and handing you an uncapped Coca-Cola.

“I wish I knew,” you responded bitterly, “I don’t get no safe haven from my world.”

“Hey,” Bucky said gently, holding you by the upper arms, “You have one now; you’re welcome up here any time ya like.”

Bucky wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into the living area, where light from the setting sun streamed in through the un-shuttered windows and a cool breeze wafted around the room. You sat down on the couch with him and sipped your cola while you and Bucky learned more about each other.

Sometime around seven, Bucky pulled you out onto the porch, sodas discarded, and the two of you swung on the porch swing, hands laced together in silence.

The familiar tune of [Moonlight Cocktail](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MPF38fYkBjc) drifted out of the house, and Bucky, with a keen ear for music and a love for dancing, took the opportunity to offer you his hand.

“I don’t think we ever finished that dance last night. Whaddaya say we try it again?” He smiled at you.

You took the hand without a second thought and curled into his embrace as he gently swayed you to the music.

_Pour in the blue of a June night and one guitar_

“You’re the most beautiful dame I’ve ever seen,” Bucky whispered as he looked down at you, his eyes wide with wonder.

You blushed, flattered. Instead of staring at the ground, however, you looked deep into his ice blue-gray eyes, and whispered back,

“Thank you.”A shy smile played across your lips as Bucky cupped your face.

You watched his eyes flutter shut, his lashes just kissing the tops of his flushed cheeks, before your own followed suit as his lips brushed yours in a tentative kiss.

_Add to the number of kisses, it’s up to you_

_Moonlight cocktail - need a few_

The song continued as you and Bucky were lost in each other’s lips, slowly swaying under the gentle light of the moon.

 

***

 

You looked up, noting that the next stop on the map was yours and that you should make ready for it.

You picked up your army jacket and stood up, clutching at the rail above your head as the train lurched to a stop. You hastily stepped off the train, taking a moment to realize that no one else was getting off at this stop. You shook the unease from your mind and continued down the way to the front of the station, hailing a cab as you went.

“Where to, miss?” the cabbie asked.

“Uhm, 792 Brookfield Rd.,” you responded automatically.

Off the cab drove, and you looked out the window to watch the station fade away, your last connection to home gone too soon, just like Bucky.

You spent the drive in silence, staring out the window all the while, not even noticing that the cab had come to a stop.

“Here you are, miss,” the driver said, and held out his hand for payment.

You slapped a five into his palm and said a curt thank you before you walked up to the building. You took in its cold stone structure and decided right away that you would hate it there. It took all of your willpower not to turn around and go home.

With a deep breath, you heaved open the front doors and walked up to the first person that you saw.

“What can I help you with, miss?” the man asked.

“Private (First Name) (Last Name) reporting for duty, sir,” you said with a salute.

“Ah, so you’re the one. Let me make a call,” he said as he disappeared behind a desk. You could hear him dial the phone and speak faintly into it. Within moments, he came back.

“Your commander will be here soon. I advise you wait here,” he said before he turned and walked away.

You only had a few seconds to think about who this “commander” was when a tall, dark haired man with a mustache walked through a different set of doors. Immediately, you stood up straighter.

“Private (Last Name) reporting for duty, sir,” you repeated with another salute.

“At ease. I’m not here to order you around, Private,” the man said warmly.

“But... I joined the army. This is the army base, ain't it?” you said, confused.

“Sorry, Private, but I’m afraid it isn't,” he smiled.

“Oh?” you asked, hopelessly lost.

“My name is Howard Stark. Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes about places and dates and times and stuff: 
> 
> Bucky "died" in the winter of '44, so I assume that's like, December, which means that reader joins in, like, March or something like that. Gives her about six or seven months of work in the war. 
> 
> Five hours north of Brooklyn would be, geographically speaking, Canada, so I went more Kim and Kanye's kid (*wink wink* get it? *giggles stupidly*) to Ithaca. There is no mention of a S.H.I.E.L.D. base in Ithaca, but I had to make the train ride long enough for reader to reminisce, and NYC is like, forty minutes from Brooklyn. So, that didn't work for me. Also, the address to the base is totally fake; I made up the street number, and Brookfield Rd., while entirely real, is actually a rural, not city, road. So, highly unlikely a S.H.I.E.L.D. base would've been there anyway. But, like I said, I needed something... WORK WITH ME GUYS, PLEASE. I'M SORRY FOR BAD PLANNING. *cries dramatically*
> 
> For those of you that don't history (and let's be honest, most of us don't), WWI is also known as the Great War because, before WWI, war was seen as glorious. Thanks to the epic bloodshed and violence among civilians and military alike, war was then regarded as burden. Hence, the Great War, the great turning point in Western ideals. BOOM. You all learned something today (maybe). Also, shell-shock was the name given to post-traumatic-stress-disorder before it was classified as a real, psychological disorder. 
> 
> Just clarifying my old phrasing (as it's actually my everyday conversation language *500 years old over here*), up-and-dusted is actually really, really old and it means, like, hurried away. I think everything else is fairly contextually supported or self explanatory.
> 
> Moonlight Cocktail was originally performed in 1942, so its use in the story is way before its actual time. It was perfect for the setting though, and it's my new favorite song. Coz, Glenn Miller. C'mon. I've used three of his songs now. I love them too much.
> 
> So, that does it for the fact stuff. I hope you approve of the direction in which this story is *kind of* (slowly) progressing. Did anyone get the Notebook-ish vibe in one of the memories? I totally got it, but I didn't mean to write it like that at all. Oh well, coincidences are funny like that. And, who else wishes they knew the days when a well made hat cost five dollars? God(s), what has this capitalist and commercial world come to?! *politically and economically rage quits on life* Anyway, like I said, I have no excuses for being this late, and I'll try to be better, but I can't promise anything. :(
> 
> More 40s Bucky will be on the way (some day...)! *coughs, scurries away to hide from angry mobs of fanfic readers*
> 
> Concrit is welcome, and if I got anything at all wrong in this story because you're from Ithaca, or you know more about the Marvel Universe than I, or if I fucked up at all, don't hesitate to tell me in the comments. I will correct it all ASAP. 
> 
> I wish you all a Happy New Year, and don't forget to leave kudos and comments if you liked it!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all liked this first chapter. Comments and Kudos are very welcome. Lets hope to whatever (G)god you all believe in that I continue/finish the story. The more lovin' I get, the more likely I am to keep writing! :3
> 
> P.S.: Would anyone like to Beta this for me? Leave me a comment. I don't really know how the beta thing works, but I'll figure it out for the sake of my story.


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